The Beauty Of Being Numb
by sarah-jess
Summary: Charlie died, and bella thought Cullen's abandoned her. She couldn't take it as soon as it happens, so she goes to college without looking back. When the Cullen's switch to her college, what will happen? Will she suffer? or will she find hope?OOC,B/E, AH
1. Epilogue

**A/N -hey, I'm trying out something new, and anyone whose read metallic love, and want a new chapter, its coming up soon, so tell me what you think of this new story, thanks. - Sarah ( I re-did this chapter, because it was different when I started it. I'm sorry for anyone who like the old one, but this makes a bit more sense. Thanks for reading) **

Ever since that day, it's been amazingly hard. Hard to cope, hard to feel, hard to even see sometimes. The guilt and sadness that plagues me, it's unbearable.

When the unthinkable happens to someone you love, how do you cope?

Do you just let go and try to be normal for everyone?

Since I don't have anyone that expects anything of me anymore, It's hard to even try. Try to live, try to be happy.

Suffering is what I live for. Pain. I strive to feel it, even to taste a bit of it. Everything I do revolves around my pain.

It revolves around something I don't want to be, yet It's the thing I am. A creature of the unknown. I am something to be feared, something to have nothing.

It made that apparent when more then one family just leaves you.

Charlie, then them. What the hell did I do to deserve that? I mean, I got A's, I was the valedictorian. I guess when your successful, something just fucks it up, makes your success a joke to you.

Yeah. Loneliness feels fantastic.

That's another thing I live for. Having the feeling of emptiness all the time. People ask me how I put up with James' shit, they don't know half of what I put up with.

And I don't think I'd like to share with them. If anything actually mattered, I'd be less of a bitch. I'd have a life. I'd have love. I used to, but not anymore, not ever.

Sure, yeah, I have sex, so what. It's an emotional outlet in a way. Something personal to me without people knowing it's personal. Something people don't have to know about. Even though my lifestyle is horrible, It's an escape. Escape from the numbness that engulfs me, traps me, in this endless pit of agony.

I hate this fucking lifestyle. I wish it was over, and I had a feeling that would happen, but not soon.

I need to relinquish the beauty of being numb, even though I know It'll scare the shit out of me, and some sense into me.

**So, wacha think? another chapter up in store? or just ditch this and head back to my other? anyways, thanks everyone for reading my stories regardless.-Sarah. **


	2. Chapter 1

_**Well, here it is. It only took me.. a year? two.. Yeah. Not cool. Anyways, this will move fast. Very fast. and it will be confusing.. and yadayada yada. Anywho, any questions.. review/pm, flame, etc. Please, if possible. Thanks for reading. And oh, twilight isn't mine.

* * *

**_

"Up! Up! Up!"

I almost slapped my roomate in the face.

_Almost._

She was too preppy, and cheery and positive for me. She was like my opposite, if I were to have one about a foot shorter than me.

I was a pessemistic, dreary, and dull. The thing she wasn't. And I didn't talk anymore.

And I was happy with that. Well, not happy, but you know.

Alice was my roomate of three years; her having the room for four now, and me only having it for three.

I really didn't want to go to college after what happened senior year of high school, but if I wanted to keep the money for my baby coming, I had to. My uncle was the source of my cash for my car.

My baby was a '68 Dodge Coronet, a used to be piece of junk that I fixed when I was visiting my home town my freshman year here. It was the only thing I loved since him.

"Are you even awake? Your mumbling a bunch of bullshit I don't want to hear, because it's probably all depressing and shit. Oh, and your package came."

I jumped up and ran out of the room before she could get my pacakage. I had ordered a vintage Iron Maiden album, one from the first round of making the records. And also a few things that I needed.

My crappy illegally downloaded version of Slipknot's Wait and Bleed was blasting through my speakers, and I turned the music to Iron Maiden.

I could imagine how this would sound, but I didn't want to try it.

Alice poked me, and she pointed to my clothes on my desk chair. I nodded towards her and she left the room.

She understood that she was the closest person to me now, and she probably didn't know much, except where I was from, what music I like, and what car I drove.

She wasn't a friend, and I wasn't looking for one.

She did have good style, though.

The body that was on my bed began to move and I slapped his butt. He grumbled and I raised an eyebrow.

His adams apple bobbed up and down and he grabbed his clothes and ran.

There was a rule for me.

You don't stay after.

Never in a million years would I let someone stay in my bed longer than to sleep.

Guys had lost that priveldge with Edward.

Fuck Edward.

Fuck Him.

I switched my music to Slayer's God Hates Us All album, and tossed my clothes on.

While the album was starting up, I brushed my teeth and ran a brush through my hair. I applied my make-up and stuck a piece of gum in my mouth.

I had 30 mintues until my first class, and my first class was across the street.

It was the start of my senior year, and Alice said she was just here for the day to make sure someone got set up.

Of course, I thought she was full of shit, but her suitcases said otherwise.

And she painted her pink room red.

She hated red.

Why did I know this?

She pounded stuff in to my head.

I peeked into Alice's old room, and noticed a picture frame hanging from a wall.

It was of me, and Edward.

What the fuck?

No.

It couldn't be, could it?

She said it was a guy, and they had to backround check him and everything for this room, or well, to share it.

Was Edward going be my roomate?

I turned my speakers up full blast and closed my eyes.

Savored the metal, tasted the hate.

That ass hole better not be my roomate.

If he knew, it would be something. But if it was just coincedence?..

I highly doubted that.

I grabbed my bag and shut my Slayer off.

I hope he wasn't alergic too rooster, because I had a ton of cocks in this place.

I smirked at the thought.

I don't think he'd be able to handle himself well.

Unless he was fucking, himself.

Then I'd probably go balistic.

I locked the door on my way out of the apartment, and crossed the street.

I had enough time to get a good seat in the back where the teacher didn't call on you.

And as I walked into the room, all the girls were crowded around a single chair in the front.

I smirked and took the best seat of the house.

He was here early.

Very early for his usual.

Maybe he wanted to scope out some ass.

Maybe he wanted to be a goody goody teachers pet like in high school.

Maybe he wanted his ass kicked.

The professor nodded in my direction as he entered the room, and the girls scattered.

What was odd, though, was the fact nobody was sitting there.

It was empty.

And that's when I felt a presence next to me.

I didn't even have to turn to know it was him.

The great thing about this seat was that if nobody was near you, he'd just let you be.

But if you had someone next to you, you'd be the prime suspect.

And I hadn't talked in 2 years. And I wasn't planning to, now.

"Hi," He had the nerve to say as I was taking notes.

I ripped a piece of paper from the sheet in the back, and scribbled a quick note down.

_I don't like to talk to humans. They make me feel dirty. Except fucking, of course. That's always fun. What do you want?_

I raised my hand and twitched my head towards the door. The teacher waved his hand at me, and I grabbed my stuff and went.

If I was going to talk to him for the first time in years, it would be better to do it properly.

Without witnesses.

Without ears.

Without eyes.

Without anything.

Just me and my problems.

My voice.

His voice.

Our shit.

Our suffering.

Our loss.

Our pain.


	3. Chapter 2

My feet hit the concrete harder as I ran faster.

It was a two minute walk at most, but I needed to gather my thoughts before he came.

James, someone who I had many nights with, waved at me, and I just kept on running.

I almost slammed into my apartment door and fumbled with my keys.

A pair of hands slid their own keys into the lock as I shoved mine back into my pocket.

I stood there for a second, catching my breath.

He walked in, and I followed.

I slammed the door behind me.

He flinched.

"Was it a coincidence, or did you know I was here?" My voice sounded harsh and bleak, and I didn't care.

"I found out five minutes before class," He took a step towards me, and I took a step back and to the side.

"So that clears one thing up," I couldn't bring myself to say anything else.

I missed him.

I still fucking loved him.

I still wanted him.

And the fact he was wearing a vintage Slayer shirt didn't help either.

We both had the same thing happen to us.

We both turned to metal.

Sweet, sweet metal.

And I thought that was hot as fuck.

But I couldn't be swayed.

Not by him.

Not now.

Not ever.

I was a numb person.

No feeling.

No consideration.

No liking.

No love for my own fucking species.

I was a hollow shell.

I wanted to stay that way.

"Well, I'd say welcome, but right now, you're not," I scoffed at myself. I would laugh if I really wanted to, but I didn't. "Stay the fuck away from my stuff, me, and my classes."

I didn't give him time to react as I walked to my room and slammed the door shut.

He wouldn't bother me.

He would.

Edward was just like that.

And he probably wanted to know why I left right after he did.

He really didn't understand the concept of anyone else, did he?

I heard knocking mere seconds after I slammed the door and I clenched my jaw.

Did he not understand I wanted to be left alone?

I flung my door open in a very dramatic way, and stood aside to let him in.

If he wanted to talk, I would let him talk.

Let him explain.

Didn't mean I was going to explain, though.

Nothing was going to make me explain.

Well, maybe truth serum.

He sat on my bed, and for a second I wondered how he'd look, sprawled on my covers, fast asleep and in the middle of the day.

I almost slapped myself right there.

Bad Bella.

Cannot think that way about him.

Remember what he did to your heart?

Still didn't change the fact he still had that amazing body and he'd look good on my covers.

I think, for a second, I was wrapped up in my own fanatsies enough to not realize he was smirking at me.

That fucker was _smirking._

Asshole.

"Say what your going to say."

"I'm sorry, Bella, I just needed to go away."

I almost scoffed and smiled, a nervous habit, but I kept my ground and glared.

He really was self-absorbed.

I was probably just someone he thought he loved until a new piece of ass came along and took my place.

It probably happened, too.

I kept my mouth shut, because quite frankly, I didn't want to explain anything to him.

"I should've told you something, anything. I know how both of our parents dying affected us both," You don't know the half of it, Edward. How about you leaving on top of that? No goodbye. No, 'have a nice life.' No, 'I love you.' "I know how fires scare us both," I love fire. I loved it since I was little. Even if I was a bit.. weary about it, fire was still something I admired. "How I could've helped us both. I'm so sorry, Bella."

He should've been explaining it to himself, because he suddenly got up off of the bed and left.

What was the good of that?

He just confirmed he was a grade-A douche, and igorant person I still loved.

Still loved.

Fuck.

That was a problem.

I not going to be defeated- My three years of hard work wouldn't be left for dead.

I would win.

And fucking him wasn't wining.

But it wasn't loosing, either.

I heard Iron Maiden's Number Of the Beast playing, and I brought my shirt up and over my body.

I slid my skirt down, and took my undergarments off.

If he wanted to apologize, he would have to do it my way.

I put my sweater on, and zipped it up.

I left my room and knocked on his door.

I heard a, "Go away," And creaked the door open.

My sweater was visible, but my below my waist wasn't.

I smiled at him, and he smiled at me.

"Did you change?" He asked, and took his shirt off.

Exactly the same.

Damn.

Still hot as hell.

I nodded and when he reached for his pants, I stuck my head in a bit more.

He slid those off and was now in his boxers.

Perfect.

"Edward," I whispered when his back was turned.

I was fully exposed now.

"Hm?" He turned around and without warning, I practically tackled him.

I slid his boxers down immediately, and he knew the rest.

He was my first, after all.

He was still the biggest I'd ever…

And probably would still be.

But this wasn't love.

It wasn't hate.

It wasn't emotion.

It was just sex.

It was just momentary pleasure, and then whatever time I had left with him to reel about it.

I didn't care though.

He was still the best guy I'd ever fucked.

As it was, though, It wasn't anything.

To me, Edward was dead.

My parents were dead.

My dog was dead.

My love was dead.

For all I knew, I was dead.


	4. Chapter 3

I didn't know when he stopped, or when I started again.

It was all a big jumble of exstacy, hate, and love.

It was like some sort of drug that made you feel amazing, but instead of after effects, the effects where when you first took it.

It was indescribable.

My mind seemed to fathom when we did end, but since I didn't want it to end, I started up again.

I wanted to feel numb again.

I wanted to feel like what he had put me through was still revelevant, that he had no meaning in my life other than just being there now.

That's all he was.

A person who I fucked, and had a past with.

Nothing more.

And I wanted him to stay that way, but my mind knew I couldn't do that.

He was too much of an important person all around to just regard him as nothing for the rest of my life.

I knew I would break sooner or later, or he would.

He wasn't this way.

He wasn't a weak person.

He didn't just spit his feelings out.

He just wasn't like that.

I did register when we broke apart and rolled over.

I said nothing, and neither did he.

Iron Maiden was still playing.

It was ironically symbolic, beacause we first had sex when maiden was on.

It was the best and worst night of my life.

When he left my room, he left my life.

Didn't come back.

Didn't bother to tell me he was leaving.

He didn't even bother to tell me he loved me after.

I knew it was just all lies.

All fucking lies.

I rolled over and grabbed my sweater.

My stay was too long already.

I walked to the door, and when I turned around, it looked like he was looking at the celing.

I scoffed and slammed his door.

I didn't need him, and he sure as hell didn't need me.

Not now, and hopefully not ever.

I walked into my room and blasted whatever was playing.

The good thing about sharing a room with a person who likes metal is the fact you both blast shit and you don't care.

You just don't.

I walked into the adorning bathroom, locked both doors and started the shower.

I stepped in when the water was just cold enough to make me scream, and shake, and gasp at the cold.

I didn't do any of those things.

I just scrubbed my body down as fast as I could and as hard as I could.

I didn't want any trace of Edward on me or around me, besides what was in his room.

He would have to deal with that shit, not me.

I washed my hair, and stepped out of the shower.

I wrapped my body in a towel, and my hair and walked out of the bathroom into my room.

I quickly dried myself off and put some clean clothes on.

He wasn't on me.

He didn't have any effect over me.

He wasn't important.

He wasn't a part of me.

I dried my hair off and grabbed my book bag.

If I was lucky, I'd be able to catch the last fifteen minutes of the semenar.

But then again, what kind of shape was I in to take less than half of the notes I needed?

I pulled out my blackberry and sent a text to my boss.

I was a bartender at some weird ass college bar, and I made great money.

But my boss was always ticked I didn't want to talk.

Maybe he was in luck today.

Because I felt like talking.

And that talking wasn't necessairly good.

At all.

I got a text back, telling me that coming in an hour early would be great.

I smiled and opened the front door of my house.

I could be doing something.

That something wasn't great.

For me, or for the professor.

But I did it anyways.

This professor liked talking, and since I wasn't a talker, he was okay with the occasional sex.

It wasn't as actually fucked up as it seemed.

Or was it?

I walked to his room, and knocked on the door.

I blushed as I realized he was probably busy doing some other hot piece of ass.

I didn't care either way.

He opened the door, and behind him was his wife.

And then I realized, I wasn't wanted.

I wasn't needed.

And unless I actually had a life, I'd have to go back into my apartment with Edward.

_Fuck._


End file.
